If Heaven Wasn't White
by inlemoon
Summary: The odd story of a queen in exile, the people trying to get her back into power, and a creature most fantastical. AU ZeLink, [Zelda, Link] [Sheik, OC]
1. Most Fantastical

Welcome to my stab into the AU universe. A bit of background:

Zelda was named queen early in her teenage years, however, she was usurped by some assholes due to her youth and thrown out of the kingdom. These people have run Hyrule into the ground, which awakened the power of the goddesses in Link and Zelda. The bearer of the third piece is unknown, and it is unknown why the Triforce was broken apart to begin with. The conditions of her exile were very sudden. Zelda is deeply in love with Link but denies it readily; she is too concerned with her kingdom to submit to her feelings. However, it is a conflict she often deals with, and there is a lot of unrequited love/sexual tension between them.

Link is the leader of a rebellion faction, a group of royal family supporters left from a large execution years sooner. Sometime before the events of the story, Zelda was reunited with them after fending for herself for a few months. He fell in love with the Queen the moment he saw her but does not pursue her (much) out of respect.

Sheik is a Sheikah (duh), named for the fabled form the Princess of Destiny took centuries before. He dresses as she did all those years ago, and is brilliant at unarmed combat as well as the typical sheikah weaponry- needles, daggers, shadow magic etc. etc. etc. He protected the Queen and was her sole companion during this time. They are not romantically involved but very close. At the beginning, he finds himself haunted hazel eyes and ice-pink lips in his dreams.

Kitt is a Sheikah truth-mage who can read intentions, among other things. All new recruits to the faction are brought to him and analyzed. He is never wrong, and is trusted explicitly by the members of the camp. However, he is haunted by a past experience the others don't know about.

The Valkyrie- perhaps a true Valkyrie, perhaps not. Certainly a magical creature, she is an enigma, with hazel eyes and ice-pink lips. No one knows why she has arrived at the camp, wanting to join their cause. Despite tension between she and Zelda, there is a level of closeness no one else in the camp understands.

The rest shall unfurl as the story continues.

Enjoy!

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_A pair of eyes appeared in his dreams._

_They were lovely eyes, a fascinating shade of hazel, wide and large like orbs. _

_Then, a mouth. A pretty mouth, full and ice-pink, from which words flowed like kisses._

"_I'm coming for you," the mouth said without a smile._

_Sheik grinned in his sleep._

"_Not if I get you first," he said._

_ #$%$%^^%&*&^%$#_

Holodrum sunrises always reminded Link of a citrus orchard, smelling of sweet-dew and tasting of honey droplets. He cherished these moments for two reasons. One, it was the only moment of quiet he usually had in his hectic day. Two, Zelda was an equally early-riser, and it was usually the only time he got to spend with her. They often breakfasted together and chatted.

This morning, however, she was neither serene nor interested in sitting with him. She flew out of her tent in a flurry, already dressed in her practice bodysuit, her bow clutched in her hand arm and a huge quiver of fire arrows hanging from her shoulders. She'd acquired the spell for the arrows a few days prior, but hadn't mastered them quite yet. "Not mastered them yet" meant that she was perhaps two millimeters away from the center of the target, if that. Of course, anything short of perfection was too little for Zelda. Link had pointed out multiple times that they were _fire _arrows, and perfect precision was rather senseless because they'd burn the victim to death even if they didn't hit the heart, but she just shot her blue-fire eyes at him and he'd given up.

"Good morning, Queen," he murmured as she flurried past him, her golden hair flying out behind her. Normally she would have responded, but she probably didn't hear. She was the epitome of tunnel vision.

He watched her scurry off, trying not to focus too much on the shapely backside and slender waist encased in stretchy underarmor. That was another thing he never really got to appreciate enough- the sheer magnitude of her beauty. They spent too much time embroiled in battle or training or travelling. Link sighed and stood up, knowing that he wasn't going to be able to think of much else if he sat there, and that was not going to lead to a productive morning.

He walked over to Sheik's tent and opened the flap.

"Rise and shine, darlin'!" He sang cheerily, relishing the groans coming from his best friend's throat. He yanked on Sheik's blanket, dangling it overhead. It left him uncovered, in only a pair of sleep pants.

"Fuck you _so_ _hard_," growled Sheik, trying to grab the covers back from Link.

"Sorry buddy, I don't swing that way! I can probably find you a nice lady friend, though."

"_I hate you_."

"That's more appropriate. Now, get up! We are going practice our archery." Finally, Sheik opened one red eye.

"Let me guess, the Queen is up and at 'em already?"

"It has nothing to do with her."

"_Right_." Sheik sighed. "Well, get out of here and let me change, unless you plan on making on my earlier comment, lover boy." But Link had already flown out the door, his friend's blanket in his hands.

_ #$# $%%$^%$#%# #_

Every four out of five fire arrows hit their mark perfectly, an improvement from yesterday's three out of five. Zelda smiled. The fire arrows were harder to control than unenhanced ones, but she would master them, as she always did. It took her a few days to master bomb arrows, too, but now even Link couldn't best her. She heard a rustling behind them and two blonde men emerged from the bushes.

She was slightly annoyed at the intrusion, but it was more because she wasn't perfect yet. Yes, it was vain, and yes, it was stupid, but she was known as the best archer in the land. Hitting less than her mark was _not _something she liked others seeing, even her best companions.

"Good morning, sunshines. Sheik, you're up rather early."

The Sheikah picked up a bo staff and swung it at a dummy, splattering the pumpkin-head into pieces. He'd wrapped his hair and face as usual, with only one crimson eye peeking out. His braid swung down to his knees. "Yeah, tell me about it." He eyed the burnt targets. "It looks like you've got the hang of your new arrows."

"Eh, four out of five. Thankfully, the enchantment is quite simple, and I can have unlimited ones." She ran a hand over a plain arrow, a bead of red forming at the tip in a split second. She'd gotten faster at that, too. She nocked the arrow and turned back to her practice, pretending to ignore the men.

Sheik sighed at Link's look of dejection. Really, he needed to just _come out with it_ already. The sad-puppy look did not suit the otherwise brilliant leader. Zelda obviously reciprocated his feelings, even if she wouldn't actually _be _with him until she was back on the throne.

Some hope was better than none, right? A nice talk would do wonders.

He watched Link unsheathe his sword and begin to swing at a dummy, pretending to ignore the queen. Link preferred a double-sided longsword, and was _deadly _with it. The thing moved like it was an extension of his arm. Sheik didn't care much for swords, but did keep daggers hidden in his uniform. He liked his needles as well, but in reality, he was best at hand-to-hand combat. He could disarm even Link. On good days, at least.

#$ %#$%#$ #$ ##

Typically the entire camp would be up by this point, but Link had announced a day of rest and the soldiers happily agreed.

Thus, the trio trained alone for two hours before they realized they were being watched. Months later, Link would conclude that it wasn't a mistake; that the creature had wanted to be found.

Still, it came across as one; a too-loud shift of leg and a murmured curse from a tree above them gave it away. The three of them heard it at the same time, and Zelda turned around, nocking a plain arrow with inhuman speed and shooting it upwards.

A figure crashed from a tree above, but managed to land gracefully on the ground, right in the middle of the three. It was completely covered in cloth- a black hood fell over the face, and layers upon layers covered up the form. Judging from height, it _could _be a girl, but that was dubious at best. Sheik ran up behind the shadow, grabbing it from behind and shoving his dagger to the neck.

"This blade is most sharp, and will cut through all that material like butter," he hissed into its ear, and Link was sure the figure was smiling.

"_Hmmmmmm_," it said, low and dangerous. It _sounded _female, but again, it was impossible to discern. The figure broke Sheik's grip, tossing him over its head and onto his butt in front of her. It stared at the three, one with unsheathed needles, one with a nocked fire arrow pointing directly at its face, and one with a charged sword ready to kill.

"I'd like to talk, actually, without a knife to my throat," it finally said. Ah, a woman.

"How do we know if you are friend or foe?" Link asked, not lowering his blade.

"Well, I've been watching you for the last two hours, and I haven't made a move to kill you yet. So wouldn't that make me friendly?"

"No."

"_Hmmmm_," she said again. "Then, what will?"

"Well for starts, why are you covering yourself and hiding in trees, if you are a friend?"

"You were interesting. Maybe I wanted to watch you for a while."

Sheik pulled his needles back in.

"That's rather suspect, don't you think?" he asked her, his visible eye narrowing.

"I suppose it is, if the one being watched is paranoid."

"Clever little thing you think you are," Zelda said, pulling her arrow down reluctantly.

"Little? Hardly." The girl had a point- they could barely see much of anything through the layers of black fabric.

"Why are you here?"

"I want to join your resistance!"

"What's your name, then?" Link asked.

"Well, that's a secret, isn't it?"

The three sighed in exasperation. Link turned to the other two, gesturing for them to come closer.

"We're going to have to bring her to Kitt." Zelda and Sheik nodded in agreement. Link turned to the girl.

"Come. We are bringing you to our truth-mage."

The girl cackled.

"Ooooh, how scary. I warn you, he might not get much of anything out of me. I might get some things out of him, though," and she screeched louder, shaking the three warriors further than they would have liked to admit. Link grabbed one of her arms and Sheik the other, and off they dragged her back to camp.

#$#$%^$%&%^&$^%% #$ #$

"Valkyrie," Kitt said, the moment they walked into the tent. One of his hands was digging in a terra cotta pot, the top in his other.

Sheik and Link exchanged glances.

"What, now?"

"Valkyrie. She is a Valkyrie. I can smell her. They go by other names in other cultures, but they are always the same thing. Winged maidens, even more dangerous than they are beautiful. They decide who lives and who dies on the battlefield, and cart the dead off to the netherworld. Among other more dubious powers." The mage slammed the top back onto the pot, cracking it, and turned to them.

"Why on earth are you here, woman?!" he snarled at her. "Why don't you go back from the hell you came from?"

The girl sighed.

"How boring, and typical of a truth-mage. We aren't evil, you know."

"My _ass _you aren't evil. All of your kind is terrible."

"And all of your kind is uptight and boring. Seriously, mage, what do you think I'm going to do? I can't kill a soul unless they've earned it. " At that, Kitt growled, a low, menacing growl.

"It'll do you no good to hold her. She is far too powerful for you two to control," he spat. So Link and Sheik let go of the Valkyrie's arms, and stepped back.

"What is your name?" the mage questioned.

"My, my, my, everyone wants to know that, don't they? What an utterly boring thing to ask. I'm much more interesting than my _name_."

"Bullshit. You know why I want to know your name."

"Then you know why I won't give it, then." The mage was red-faced.

"_Then tell me why you are here!"_

"I wanted to join the cause! Tis a noble and righteous one. Is that not enough?"

"No, it most certainly is not. Valkyries don't work without orders."

"Maybe I'm not really a Valkyrie. Maybe I'm just related to them."

"Fine, then. At least show us your face and wings."

"No."

The mage picked up the terra cotta pot and threw it at her hard. Her hand flew into the air, revealing a small, delicate hand with blood-red nails. The hand stopped the earthenware right before it broke in her face. It floated in front of her, glowing faintly.

"What a terrible temper. What did we ever do to you, truth-mage? Did we take someone you loved?"

"_Yes,_" he hissed. Zelda, Sheik, and Link all startled at his affirmation. They looked at each other and shrugged; apparently none of them knew this to begin with.

"Well, she would be very disgraced to know that you are so hateful of her valiant sacrifice." With that, the mage leapt at the Valkyrie.

"You _bitch-_" he said, snarling, his hand in front of him, his pupils pinpricks.

"Oh, _hush _with the name calling," she said, tossing one hand towards him and throwing him against the back of his tent into a pole. It snapped, and half the tent collapsed, the truth-mage unconscious.

"This is utterly _boring." _She turned to Link. "Look, I'm not going to kill you or your queen, I want to join your cause, and I'm obviously powerful. Can I join or not?"

Link considered her words carefully. Truthfully, they could use more magic users, particularly ones as powerful as she. The mage didn't like her, _hated_ her really, and they normally trusted his advice, but he was too blinded by his feelings to properly ascertain the Valkyrie.

However, Zelda spoke before he could make a decision.

"Why?"

The Valkyrie turned to her.

"You are the queen, correct?" She didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "Perhaps your goddesses sent me to teach you…things." Her other hand came forth from her cloaks, holding a simple plain arrow. From her fingertips, a bead of golden light emerged. Zelda gasped.

"_Light arrows!_"

"Yes. Haven't you been searching for these for quite some time?" Like a child in wonder, Zelda began to walk towards the Valkyrie.

"Ho no no, little miss. What makes you think you are worthy? You can _barely _hit four out of five _fire_ arrows. These are much harder, I'm sure you know already. No, you are too much of a child to be able to handle this."

"She is our queen! Show some _respect, _Valkyrie!" he hissed. The creature turned to him, and he was sure she was staring at him through her hood.

"She is no queen of mine."

"Why, you-" Link began to roar, but was cut off by Zelda.

"Enough! At ease sir!"

"But, Zelda…"

"I may not be _her _queen, but I am _yours._ And I said at ease." She turned sharply to the Valkyrie.

"You can join us, on one condition. Show us your face." Despite the hood, they were sure that she cracked a grin.

"Certainly." The red-nailed hands flipped her hood back, and they were greeted with a most beautiful face. It had hazel eyes that reflected light brown and green, full pink-ice lips, long burnished gold hair that disappeared into the layers of clothing, and pale, porcelain cheeks. She looked to be perhaps twenty, but they had a feeling she was much older.

"Are you satisfied?" she asked, flipping her hood back up, turning on a heel sharply and exiting the tent. She did not wait for their answer.

Zelda could tell that Link was fuming at her for pulling rank on him. It was something she hadn't done for years. Ignoring his anger, the queen turned to Sheik.

"You are to follow her. If she shows even an inkling of betrayal, you are to report it to me directly, and _no one else." _She cut her eyes at Link, who was fuming, and briskly left the tent.

Link turned to Sheik, and the latter shrugged.

"Women are crazy?" He offered, causing Link to shake his head.


	2. Poetry Incarnate

It was two weeks before he realized that she was watching him, too.

Per the request of the queen, Sheik had followed her. He didn't stalk her closely when they were around the other members of the faction, but she was always in the corner of his eye. She was most frustrating.

Sheik's very way of life was based off of reading people. He could read the movements of opponents before they had the chance to think them; he could discern emotions like a pig sniffing truffles. No one bothered to lie to him because he'd see right through it, that bright red eye boring into their brains like an icepick. But this girl was as clear as a muddy stream and it infuriated him.

Everyone in the camp wondered about the mysterious girl in the saggy black cloaks that the truth-mage hated and the queen seemed to regard too highly. Was she beautiful? Was she deformed? Why did she hide herself? Why didn't she train and work with the others? Why didn't she sleep in a tent, preferring the treetops, even in torrential rain?

Sheik could answer only a few of those questions, and with sparse detail. Yes, she was beautiful. Unearthly so, actually. As far as he could tell, she was not deformed; she seemed to move on her feet as others did. She didn't train with the others because she didn't want to; Link had tried to demand it but she brushed it off, flitting to a thick tree branch like a squirrel looking for acorns, saying she'd rather watch.

But when he realized she was watching him, too; aware of his eyes on hers, he was _crazed_ in a way he did not understand. She ignited his stomach like wildfire.

And when he began to realize this, it seemed that she knew it, for he started to notice her hooded head facing in his direction much more, sure the hazel eyes were staring at him. It snuck up on him like a damn scorpion crawling up his back in his sleep, soft and gentle, betraying its terrifying size and poison. He tried to live with it for another two weeks before he cracked. As the rest of the camp sat around an evening fire, a rare night of merriment, he stormed into the woods alone and cried to the trees.

"What do you want?" he yelled, knowing that she was listening to him. "Why are you haunting me like this? I'm just doing what I was ordered to do, by following you-" his tirade was interrupted by her voice, smooth as the skin on her cheeks.

"_Come to the river, where the stones are large and the current small." _He narrowed his eyes. There was a small brook about a mile away to the west, a place he knew well. He'd go there for midnight swims, to clear his mind. He hadn't been there since she showed up.

Did she know it was his own little haven?

Yet off he ran, so nimble the thin branches on the ground barely snapped when his feet hit them. He was sure he heard a rustling of air above him in the pitch-darkness. When he reached the small clearing by the creek, he turned upwards, expecting her to descend from the trees.

But she did not. The only evidence was a trail of footprints. He stooped down and gently ran a finger through it. He studied the footprint further. She had small feet, tiny, even. Yet she ran with short bursts of quick power, as evidenced by the depth.

He followed the trail, stalking silently through the woods. He came upon a pile of crumpled black clothing; her outer cape. He picked it up, holding it gingerly on his fingertips as though he'd get in trouble for touching it. It smelled faintly floral and feminine, with a sharp twinge that reminded him of freshly unearthed gingerroot. He decided that he liked it and dropped the cloak back where it was.

Several more strides and he came across another pile of fabric- another cloak that trapped her earthy smell further; she must have worn it under the other. Padding forward silently, it occurred to him that she'd taken off all of her clothes along the way.

An odd shiver ran up his spine and spread through his shoulders and into his chest.

He made his way to a small clearing beside the river he often swam in, a place he knew well. As he stepped out he saw another heap of fabric, this one white; it was a gossamer cape that seemed to stick to his fingers the way a spider web would. A few paces further and he saw a translucent golden gown draped carelessly over a tree branch; a pair of women's undergarments hung next to it.

He kept his eyes trained to that golden fabric, moving the white cape over his fingers, the viscid, sensuous fabric causing his fingers to alight. His heart pounded and his nostrils flared with her scent. It made him dizzy, unguarded. He thought he saw her shape directly behind the hanging dress and kept his eyes trained to the golden fabric, for he was terrified of what he would most certainly see when he looked beyond but not wanting to see anything but her, so he settled for her faint silhouette. Finally, he cut his eyes down to his hands, watching the moonlight weave in and out of the fabric he clutched, when he heard her voice.

"It's rude to follow people." Her voice rang through the darkness, and his cheeks flushed.

"It's rude to mouth off to the General you're supposed to be following and skip his practice sessions," he managed weakly, his palms sweating lightly. He heard her sigh.

"Come to me. Come look at me," she commanded, and he cast the cape aside, stumbling with uncharacteristic clumsiness until she was fully in his vision. The desire that had been humming in his ears began to scream bloody horror as he took her in, drinking her in as though he'd never had a drop of water in his life.

She stood naked in the creek, letting the freezing water wash over her bare feet. Her impossibly long hair fell at least five feet past her height, following the quick current, a cascade of honey tumbles.

Her legs were muscular, strong; rooted on the river-rocks as a Goron rooted for strength when he wrestled. He could see every outline on her thighs, her calves, and her backside was so wanton and luscious he found arousal hitching in his breath.

Somehow, in the scarce white moonlight, he could make out an enormous tattoo that covered most of her back. It was a pair of bright crimson wings, arching beautifully across her shoulder blades, descending with the ends wrapping around her hips, stopping at her knees. Thousands of feathers, mostly bright red but some pink and white, and a few black, glittered back at him like stars. A few loose ones floated about on her calves and the backs of her arms, as if they may drift off her flesh at any moment.

He suddenly envied the person who most certainly spent hours seeing her like this, who painted her with red and black, who etched her very nature into her flesh, who once saw her both clean and untarnished and as a tattooed warrior.

He was not sure what each color feather symbolized, but he was certain death was involved in some way. This realization should have caused him to flee in the other direction, but Sheik was not one who ran away, even if it meant his certain doom. Instead he approached her.

"You are far too beautiful to hide yourself under cloaks."

"Yes, but it makes it so much more interesting."

"Not really," he whispered. He finally stood right behind her. "I find you _most _interesting." Hie eyes swept from the top of her head down to her feet, drinking in more, still thirsty for her touch.

"I can practically smell your lust, Sheikah," she whispered.

"And I can practically smell yours." He touched the tattoo, right in the center of the wings, and was thrown onto his butt in the middle of the frigid water. He heard a sickening crack and saw her neck twitch grotesquely to the side, terrified that his touch had caused her to kill herself, until the tattoo began to lift up from her back, materializing from body ink to reality, swooping up six feet on either side. Her wings were powerful. Glorious. Without turning around, she wrapped the end of one around him, and swept him to her front.

The feeble sense of control he'd managed to maintain evaporated the instant he saw her from the front; her breasts were full and lush, her beautiful eyes ablaze with desire for _him_. He could not live another moment without knowing her name.

"Tell me what you are called," he demanded, moving one hand to her breast and rolling the center between his thumb and forefinger. She moaned, but did not cave.

"Show me your face."

Sheik winced. He covered his face for a damn reason. And she didn't get to know it.

"I'll show you my mouth," he said, pulling down his bandages and replacing his fingers with his lips. She yanked on his braid with both hands, arching her back to his mouth and into his arms. Still, she did not say her name.

"I want to see who I am coming to," she hissed, dropping her hand down to his sex and stroking hard through his bodysuit; the pressure and pain causing a tornado of lust to swirl in his belly.

He choked into her breast, but stayed strong.

"Well, I want to know what I'm supposed to call out into the night," he countered.

"Just call me Valkyrie like the rest of your fucking camp," she susurrated, venom dripping from her tongue.

"No. I only cry out truth. What do you think this eye stands for? He let go of her for a moment to gesture to the symbol on his chest." When he returned to her body, he dipped a finger in. She cried out louder, her voice breaking, and he knew he had her.

"Will you tell me now?" he cried in triumph, moving it. She was dripping onto his palm.

But there was still some fight left...

"Show me your face and I'll tell you my name. We'll do it at the same time," she panted after a few minutes; his finger movements were beginning to not be enough for him, he wanted to do this with another part of himself. She reached to his back and began to tear his bodysuit off. He wiggled back and forth to help her, and soon he was naked as well.

"Fine," he said, burying himself in her. Another cry from her throat. He poised on hand on top of his head, near the pin that held his bandages up. "Say it." He pulled the pin out, and down the bandages dropped, exposing his face. She stared upon it unflinchingly. The word fell from her lips.

"Amory."

He nodded, and it was the only word he spoke again until the morning.

* * *

><p><em>She was poetry incarnate, her wings flinging out from her spine. She wore ivory men's breeches but nothing else, her breasts exposed.<em>

"_They don't make shirts that accommodate wings, unfortunately," she said as Sheik eyed her nudity coolly. With a powerful flap, she lunged forward, catching him under the armpits and soaring skyward. _

"_Ever wonder what it's like to be a bird?" she asked him, grinning from ear to ear at his worried expression. He leaned his head onto her collarbone, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly._

"_Every day."_

"_Well, now you'll see." Together they flew over the blue-and-green earth._

* * *

><p>"Link? Where is Sheik?" Zelda sat down next to him at the campfire, her arm gently touching his shoulder.<p>

Zelda did not do well when Sheik was not around. It was something that made Link illogically jealous. He was just as capable of protecting her as Sheik but she always preferred the tribesman. It was understandable that she trusted him so much. He was the one who rescued her from the sack of Hyrule Castle, after all.

It wasn't Sheik's fault and he really couldn't blame the queen, but it didn't stop the envy from bubbling up in his throat whenever she asked questions like this.

"I think he went off to the forest, probably to swim, or to the village to find a companion for the night." Sheik was not a stranger to paid company.

Zelda shook her head.

"He always tells me before he does that. This time, he just…disappeared."

"I'm sure he's fine, Zelda. He's been tired, watching the Valkyrie. She's rather difficult to handle."

Zelda sighed and looked down at the drink Link had poured for her.

"I suppose you're right. Still…"

At that, Link sighed. She wanted him to go look for the Sheikah. Of course. And of course, he'd do it.

"I'll go check the creek." The queen brightened and against his will, he found himself smiling at her happiness. He was rather pathetic. He stood up, pouring the rest of his beer into her mug, and instructed one of the guards to make sure she was safe.

He walked quickly through the woods towards the creek, hoping to get back in time to share some conversation with the queen. It was only a few minutes before he tripped upon a tangle of black fabric.

The cloak the Valkyrie always wore? Why was that here…?

Link groaned loudly.

"Sheik, I swear to Din, if you are fucking that Valkyrie I am going to _kill_ you," he muttered to himself. He shouldn't be surprised. It was only a matter of time before Sheik got tired of his boys and girls and Zoras and decided to try out a new species. At least it wasn't a Goron.

A few more strides and he came across the second cloak; he swore that he heard something nearby. Knowing exactly what he was about to see, he marched forward, intent on breaking up whatever debauchery Sheik had gotten himself into.

When he stomped into the clearing, not bothering to be quiet, he stopped abruptly.

Sheik sat naked on a large stone, rocking the Valkyrie on top of him. A pair of huge wings stretched out behind her, the ends curling in pleasure, and her head tossed back as she arched her body. Sheik was actively bleeding from his back from very deep scratch marks that would probably need medical attention. None of this was what actually stopped him, however.

What stopped him was the pile of white gauze and the raggedy cowl Sheik normally used to cover his scarred face, thrown carelessly onto the ground. He _never _took those off. _Never._ Link had seen his injuries before, as had Zelda, and the medic in the camp. But both had heard the Sheikah vow to never reveal them to a lover, had seem him slam his fist on a table, his one visible eye blazing blood. Both heard him say that no woman or man in his bed was worthy of seeing them. But there they were, still unhealed six years later and splattering blood all over the Valkyrie's bare breasts, exposed for all the world to see.

Link's best friend was in way over his head.

He grabbed the handle of his sword and took a step forward, but was once again paralyzed.

A pair of topaz eyes were glaring at him, directly over Sheik's shoulder. The man was oblivious to his lover's lack of attention. The woman silently stared- no, _dared_- Link to come forward.

Link sheathed his sword, knowing that if he walked forward he would most surely be slaughtered. He took a step back and fled away from them. It was a battle for another day.

* * *

><p><em>There were five royal children, Zelda the eldest, and four younger brothers. The girl was but eleven. Each had two Sheikah guards. Each of those guards was granted a Stone of Life, with a groove for each member of the Royal Family and a smaller spot for each guard. Each was lit with a different color. If the light within the spot blackened, it meant the individual was dead.<em>

_Now, nine spots remained. The queen, Zelda, two of the boys, Sheik's own, the trio of traitors, and...Ian's._

_And Ian's light was very rapidly fading._

_As Sheik darted up the staircase to one of the larger hallways in the castle, he saw his lover's mangled form gasping for air._

_"Ian!"_

_Sheik ran to his fallen partner's side and cradled the man in his arms, pressing kisses to his forehead. Blood pooled beside them, the contents of Ian's belly spilling onto the ground._

_Ian and Sheik were from two different tribes, brought together when they'd both been sent to the Castle to train as Shadow Guards. They started out as roommates, became working partners upon graduation, and lovers shortly after that. They were assigned to guard the youngest prince of the royal family, Taris. They did so dutifully for two years. _

_And then the castle was sacked._

_It was a slaughter. A trio of mutinous Sheikah- not of the Shadow Guard, but the faction that defended the borders of Castle Towne- led the charge. Tired of living in shadow, they sought to gain the crown for themselves and their benefactors. _

_The human members of the Royal Guard were strong and trained well, but few were keen enough to detect evil shadow magic. As such, when the three slithered out of the shadows and sank their daggers in, a horde of evil demons close at hand, it was a bloodbath. Sheik had been caught at the bottom of the castle in the thick of the bloodshed and had been unable to get to his Prince in time to save his life. He'd been nearly killed himself but did not have the time to feel the pain of his face._

_"Sheik...you need... to go. They have no one... to protect... them..."Ian said between gasps._

_Sheik knew that his lover was right but was reaching desperately to find a reason to stay. He stroked a hand gently down Ian's cheek, kissing a violent-looking cut tenderly. _

_"You can't leave me..." he whispered, his breath choking._

_"It's too late...look at me...there's nothing...left..." Ian was beginning to fade out of consciousness, the blood loss and disembowelment fully taking over. _

_Sheik did not beg for him to stay. He knew it was not going to happen. Still, he stared into his companion's eyes, searching frantically for life that was leaving bit by bit._

_A scream cut through the night. Zelda's, or the queen's. Sheik looked to his Stone of Life at three lights, one red, one green, one yellow, each faded quickly._

_The younger boys were all dead. Zelda's light, a deep rose-pink, and the queen's, so violet it was nearly blue, were still burning bright. _

_It occurred to him why the females were being kept alive, and his stomach dropped. Ian nodded and tilted his head back._

_"GO."_

_Sheik let his lover's body slip back onto the ground. He knew that he was not going to be able to bury Ian's body, that he would not receive the proper funeral he deserved. Still he ran to the direction of the screams, letting the shadow guide him, not looking back as the love of his life died on the floor._

_"I'll always be at your side, Sheik," Ian whispered as death took him._

_Sheik did not hear him, for he was consumed by the screams of those he'd vowed to protect._

* * *

><p><em>It took him far too long to reach the source of the screaming; it came from one of the bedrooms on the seven floor. By that time, the queen's light had nearly faded out. The bodies of his fallen Sheikah guards and the princes were strewn carelessly about the room. Sheik, despite years of training, found himself panicking.<em>

_How did these three manage to kill such trained, skilled warriors as the Shadow Guard? The demons- individually little more than nuisances, in large enough numbers enough of a threat but more of an enormous time-suck, really- wouldn't be able to touch them. The three traitors were powerful, but not _that _strong. _

_Speaking of, where were they? _

_"Sheik...get...Zelda..." the queen whispered, snapping him out of his thoughts. Like Ian, she was too far gone to save and she seemed to realize it. She was tied up, her stomach cut open like Ian's. Blood and white fluid dripped from between her thighs and Sheik felt his stomach lurch. How many times had they...?_

_"Get Zelda!" she rasped again._

_The little girl was still unharmed. They'd stripped her naked, tied her arms to the bedposts, and spread her open, but no blood seeped from between her legs. The intention was clear- they were going to rape her and kill her as they'd done to her mother- but something had drawn them out, leaving her unconscious and vulnerable._

_"They...hit her on the head...when she screamed..." The queen said as Sheik quickly cut through the ropes binding the princess. "They left because they wanted her to be conscious while they..." The queen coughed blood, and did not finish her sentence. He slung the princess over his shoulder and bolted to the vanity, grabbing the first article of clothing he could find to cover her. _

_"He made his way to the queen and cut her binds down, too. With one arm, he laid her out gently. She nodded as best as she could in gratefulness, tears mingling with her blood._

_"It was dark, dark magic that condemned...they had to gather blood from each of you...the blood would seal their fates...but none could best you in combat...the Rose Trials...so...they were short by one. They thought their combined power...would kill you..." The queen smiled slightly. "Clearly, they were wrong..."_

_Sheik felt the room spin. Of course. The Rose Trials were every year, a tribal tradition where the best warriors both Sheikah and otherwise would fight for an audience. Sheik had won them with the first perfect score since the Hero of Time so many centuries before. Death was forbidden, but the winners were decided by the amount of blood drawn; and the victor allowed to keep a small vial of what they wrought. By the end, it could turn into a messy affair. Sheik had dozens of blood-vials, even one of Ian's._

_Of course, not a drop of his own had been spilled that day._

_Sheik looked down at the beautiful queen, her honey-colored hair stained red. She was nearly dead. He kissed her softly on the forehead._

_"I'll protect her until I die, Your Grace." _

_"I...know...I...loved...you...all...as...my own...children..." She closed her eyes, but Sheik had already jumped out of the window, the young Zelda still in his arms as he scaled down the side of the castle._

_The traitors would not lay a finger on her. _

* * *

><p>Link clomped back into the base, quite ungracefully, eyes down. Zelda looked at him inquisitively.<p>

"Did you find him? Is he okay? Is he in trouble?" Link met his queen's eyes with his own, blue-and-blue, the color of the sky clashing with the color of the sea.

"We have a complication. Come to my tent now."

She opened her mouth and closed it again, slightly perturbed at being issued a command. But he did not give her a chance to offer rebuttal, and marched straight in.

* * *

><p><em>The night of the sack, Sheik flew out of the Castle and ran until he reached the gates of Death Mountain. The Goron patriarch took one look at him, recognized the crest upon his clothing and the unconscious girl on his shoulder, and silently led him into a secure chamber deep within the city. It was so cloaked in magic, not even a hundred Sheikah could have penetrated it.<em>

_A Goron female- well, Sheik could never really tell, but he assumed from the lack of facial hair- gently took Zelda out of his arms. A Goron doctor tried to tend to him, but Sheik turned him away._

_It wasn't until he was alone; sure that no one else could hear him that he looked at his face. He saw the tattered flesh where he cheek once was and the hollowed socket that once held another crimson eye, the scabbed-over scalp where thick blonde hair once grew, and the lips once described as comely half-torn and twisted. It was then he let himself scream._


	3. The Bliss and The Scythe

**The ZeLink is coming. And so is a plot. I promise.**

**For now, let's just go with this.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

><p>Excerpts from an unmarked, leather-bound book in Queen Zelda's small treasure chest:<p>

"_The Valkyrie is a most interesting species of mythical creature. The most common representations wear heavy armor, take flight with powerful white wings as pure as the heavens ;__ these__ incarnations __are as__ beautiful as they are dangerous__.__Typically__ known as shield-maidens or seeresses__, they are all fearsome creatures. __ But there is a much more complex story of the Valkyrie, twelve subspecies, each of different temperament and color, each tasked with a different destiny to fulfill, a different set of choices to make….."_

"_The Valkyrie's own name is the greatest weapon the human can brandish against these shieldmaidens, but this must be wielded with caution, for misuse will lead to devastating consequences…"_

"_The Bliss is the first we shall discuss, as they are the most numerous, though few know of their presence. Their hallmarks are their short wings, the same brilliant hue as their eyes, both cloaked in shades of blue from the Earth's sweet water. They are born with magical abilities developed, unable to be strengthened or debilitated…."_

"_The Bliss walk the easiest among the humans, often living several lifetimes before being called to their duty, hiding their wings within their eyes and hearts with no outer markings. As their name suggests they provide pleasure to warriors, presenting them with choices they do not realize they are making…they are found in brothels, in kitchens or other places of human inclination….. Unlike other Valkyries, they can lie about their name, yet if their true title is discovered and spoken they are killed instantly. As such, they can weave a spider's web of lies, ensnaring men with their beauty and wiles as easily as the black widow. But they are mostly kind, and sweet, and only seek to pleasure the humans they love. Their gossamer tongues are their greatest weapons…"_

* * *

><p>The evening after they'd first made love, Sheik found the Valkyrie in his tent as if she'd always been, stretched out luxuriously and sleeping on his cot, her wings hanging on the ground. He stared at her briefly from the entrance, holding the flap tight in his hand. He should have been infuriated but he wasn't; it felt right and warm to have her there.<p>

_How odd. I know little more than her name and the shape of her body and the color of her wings_, he thought as he unraveled the wrappings from his hands. They were covered in dirt, blood, and other from the day- Link had put them through _hell _in training.

His tent was not as richly furnished as Zelda's or even Link's (though any tent is certainly not luxe), but it was still a small home. It held things he'd picked up in the last few years- a enchanted shrinkable trunk that converted to a small bookshelf (a rather nifty thing Zelda purchased for him a year ago), a hanging cot suspended on sturdy wooden poles, a few mixing jars for potions and other herbal poultices, a small washbasin and pitcher for the nights he was too tired to bathe in the creek, a few bags to hold his clothes and other belongings, and a cloth poster he always tacked to the sides, one that held a painting of Hyrule Field in all of her green summer glory, flowers fully in bloom. And now, part of his small home was a sumptuous red-winged creature.

He wondered if she'd be gone when they moved. For it had been six months since they posted here and though the sentinels had not detected evil presences, it was surely to come.

After he'd removed his wrappings, save for his face, he pulled off his Sheikah bodysuit and began to address the wounds and cuts Link's sword had inflicted earlier that day. It was strange for the general to actually land a blow on him, much less several, much less several that _hurt_. But he'd been distracted. By a pair of ice-pink lips and wild hazel eyes and so many inches of soft, creamy skin. She hadn't watched him that day, and he wondered if she'd been in his tent the entire time. He poured a little healing potion on a particularly deep cut- he hadn't realized how bad it was until he peeled his suit away- and winced as it burbled and cackled.

"_Ah_!" The noise escaped his lips, along with a few other choice words. He pushed a cloth into it to help relieve some of the pain, and heard the woman (creature?) stir.

Finally, she rose from slumber and walked over casually, her wings dragging behind like a red wedding veil. If she would have lifted them, they would have spanned the entire tent.

"Let me help you."

Sheik opened his mouth to protest but she had grabbed the towel before he could get a word out, and pushed him onto a small stool. She ran a red-nailed hand over the cut and he twitched, expecting it to burn, but it did not. Instead, it was soothing.

"Valkyries can heal?" he asked as she began to inspect him for other injuries, touching tender bruises he hadn't had the chance to feel yet.

"Some of us."

"I see. So, then. Is it an acquired ability, something you are born with, or...?"

"I must prefer your mouth when it is occupied with other things," she muttered, not looking up at him, instead regarding his wounds. Sheik sighed.

"I already know your name, and apparently that's some sort of a big deal with you creatures. At least that's what Kitt says. So why is that?"

"I also preferred your blood when it was running to areas besides your brain." Pause. "I am not answering your questions."

"Mmmmmm. And why not?"

Finally, she looked up at him, and Sheik felt his breath hitch at her loveliness. _Strange effect. _

"That was another question."

"Was it?"

"ARGH!" She threw the towel to the side of the tent and pushed him off the stool with unbelievable strength. He fell painfully onto his bruised backside. "Will you be silent? Or do you want to go to bed with bruises and cuts everywhere?!"

"I liked w hat you were doing perfectly fine, so no. The only thing I'd like to go to bed with is you."

"Yes, well. You stink."

"Then bathe me," he replied, glaring her down.

The Valkyrie sat, folding her legs under her hips, and sighed.

"I suppose." She motioned for him to sit again and went to fetch the washcloth, basin, and pitcher. It was already filled with water- one of the stable-girls had a crush on him and was usually diligent in filling it up.

"Show me your face again."

Every thought in his mind screamed "no!" but his fingers seemed to rise and unpin the wrappings of its own accord. They dropped into her palms, and he felt the blood from the never-healing wounds drip slowly onto his shoulder.

"Your bandages. They are magic?"

"Yes. I clean and enchant them every evening so that they hold the blood and infection."

"Mmhmm." She reached her hand out and touched the wounds gently, then pulled it back. She observed the red drips, bringing her fingers to her nose and flicking her tongue out to taste.

Sheik could not help but shudder, his stomach twisting in nausea.

"An interesting combination of flavors. Regret, heartbreak. Terror. Trauma. Refusal. And the magic that binds them together, making it impossible for your face to recover. And yet, sweetness in all the salt. You lost someone in battle." The red stains she hadn't licked absorbed quickly into her skin, sending another shudder through Sheik. Or perhaps it was her words.

"I lost many people in battle," he said darkly, but she shook her head and shrugged.

"Yes, but, someone more. Innocence. Don't bother lying to me, Sheikah. I can taste it."

"Perhaps all innocence is lost in bloodshed."

"No, it is not. Your General has seen more than his fair share. He watched hundreds of his comrades slaughtered brutally, endured his own tortures, and he screams in the night from terrors. Yet he is practically and angel, pure and white and gold."

"Angels, huh? Friends of yours?"

"I cannot stand them. But even I can't deny their purity."

"So I'm just a load of damaged goods, then." He laughed bitterly. "Big surprise there."

"Yes, you are. But I like damaged things, broken things, things that don't work too well."

Sheik stared at her coolly. "And why is that?"

"I like fixing them. They'll never be the same as before, and they'll work differently, but..." She touched his wounds again, "usually they do much more interesting things."

"I like my wounds," he said, barely above a whisper, and the Valkryie smiled. "I don't want them to leave me. They're the last thing I have of..."

"I never said I'd take them away, did I? Now, hush."

She poured water into the basin and dipped the cloth in, and began to scrub.

* * *

><p>Zelda's tent had a small windchime on the outside, and Link would always play a particular tune when he wanted to gain entry. It was a lovely song, about twenty notes long, and normally Zelda let him complete it before calling out to him. This time, he barely got past the first triplet before she threw the tent flap open.<p>

If he would have asked, she would have denied waiting there at the entrance for him.

"Come in, Link."

Link was not surprised when he walked in. Per usual, she had a few candles burning and several tomes flipped open. A small plate of cheese and apples sat next to an uncorked bottle of honey wine- something she'd recently discovered. She flicked a hand into the air and an umbrella of pink magic descended over them in a dome- a soundproofing spell. The dome sparkled with rose and fuschia shimmers, and had it not been remarkable inappropriate to think so, Link was certain that he would have found the entire scene beautifully romantic.

_Have I ever told you that your magic is as beautiful as you are?_

She poured a glass of wine and handed it to him absently, already immersed in one of her books. Link took it and a few slices of food and ate silently. She'd start talking when she was ready.

_Have I ever told you that this was what made me fall in love with you? _

_How someone who could conjure something so pure, so colorful, so glittering, must surely be as beautiful as her sorcery?_

_Have I ever told you that I could swim in your stories and the sound of your voice forever?_

"Have you any experience with otherworldly creatures?" she asked suddenly, and he startled.

"No." _Yes, you._

"Well, I have some. I always liked reading about them as a girl. Some think they are myths, but there are those who still believe. Myself included."

"I've seen enough to know believe as well." It was true. He'd seen some most fantastical things. Like a red-winged Valkyrie making raucous love with his best friend on a rock in a creek.

"Good. Obviously, we have one in our midst. But what few people know- Kitt included- is that Valkyries come in twelve different forms. If we wish to decipher our mystical friend's intentions, we must first understand what her kind is."

"And how do we do that?"

"Same answer as always, my dear General. We research. I am afraid I have a secret which I have kept even from you." A mischievous smile began to dance across her lips, and Link cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh, and what is that?"

She picked up an intricate baton- one Link had seen many times before, and wondered exactly what it was many times before- and swirled it smoothly in the air. It was then that what had to be hundreds of books appeared, ghostly and transparent and blue. He gasped.

"You...you..."

"Carry an entirely library on me at all times?"

"You..."

"Are the most intelligent and resourceful queen you've ever met?"

"I..."

"Am flabbergasted? Words, General. Use your words."

"You are the most beautiful and brilliant thing I've ever seen."

He closed the space between them, pressing his lips to hers and pulling her on top of him, her honey-scented hair flooding his senses with fragrance.

* * *

><p>The Valkyrie scrubbed Sheik's scalp and he sighed. He was surprised to find that the water was very warm, <em>hot<em> even. It was _stupidly_ relaxing.

"Your magic?" he asked, but he already knew the answer. It was the only way she could have done it.

"Yes." Her thorny touch worked out sore spots from where Link had assaulted him with the broad side of his blade earlier that day.

"Mmmmmmphffff…" He rolled his head to the side and kissed her forearm, surprised by his own spontaneity.

He was no stranger to men or women in his bed, paid or otherwise; it was usually a weekly occurrence at the very least. But _tender_ was one thing he was _not_. He was neither abusive nor cruel, but once their job was done they _always_ left him. He had little patience for whores who liked to linger, hoping to gain an extra penny, or emotionally-needy boys insecure about their preferences for men. There were few places he let other people touch intimately. Very few.

_He was not after-coitus cuddler_, as Link once said.

But he let the Valkyrie run her hands over him (she'd discarded the washcloth) and allowed her to work her magic (figurative and literal) on his sore muscles. He'd relaxed so much, in fact, that he only vaguely acknowledged when her hands slipped up his thighs to open them and her beautiful, ice-pink lips pressed kisses to his most intimate parts. She teased sensation out of him slowly, sensuously, tortuously, and it was an _embarrassingly_ short period of time before he was moaning, weaving his fingers though her glossy hair and pushing her mouth further down around him, driving himself into her throat.

"_Goddesses above,"_ he whispered to her, and her hazel eyes crinkled in amusement, "do you have _two_ tongues down there? I….ah….ah….ah!" He lolled his head back and cried out quietly, his words long forgotten.

Of course, it was _then_ that Link entered the tent.

* * *

><p>Link had seen the Valkryie the night before and was aware that she was beautiful, but seeing her perfect skin illuminated by orange candlelight, her silken hair and wings falling carelessly behind her, left him speechless. He was not one to lust easily after women and it wasn't really desire he was feeling, per say (though he did feel a rather uncomfortable twinge between his thighs at the…<em>activities<em> before him), but she was so sumptuous he couldn't help but stare.

However, after a moment, he felt his face burn as crimson as Sheik's eyes. If her nakedness was something he'd been made better for, he could have lived his entire life without hearing Sheik…_well_. Whatever, it wasn't something he really needed to experience. Especially twice.

Admittedly, he'd walked in on Sheik with his hookers on more than one occasion, but the man always sensed his presence before he even entered the tent, and he'd send the girl (or boy) along. Here, he was too absorbed to even notice. The Valkyrie laid her head on the Sheikah's thigh and both sighed.

_He isn't going to notice me, for Dinssake._

"Ahem."

Link was pinned to the ground with a powerful wing to his neck before he had the chance to say another word, a razor-sharp red feather breaking the skin and making him bleed. The Valkyrie's thighs were pushing into his shoulders, practically dislocating them, causing intense pain.

"Whoa! Whoa! _Amory_! It's okay, it's just Link! We were technically supposed to have a little pow-wow with the Queen after the camp went to sleep…" The Valkyrie paid him no attention, digging her nails into Link's skin so hard he began to bleed.

"So, your name… is _Amory_. Beautiful." A female voice said this quietly, and the three snapped their heads up.

Zelda stood in the doorway, an amused smile on her face at the naked Valkyrie and the also-naked Sheikah trying to pull her off of the poor pinned-down general.

"You idiot!" Armory hissed at Sheik, slamming her free wing into his frame and tossing him (surprisingly gently) onto his bed, then returning her glare to the Hylians.

"This knowledge will not leave this tent," Zelda told her, steely blue eyes regarding Armory's wild hazel. "Release him."

Slowly, she stood up, moving her wing away from Link's throat and her knees from his shoulders. The man inhaled sharply, nearly gagging for air, and rubbed his neck.

"This meeting was supposed to be about you, Valkyrie. I assume there is no way we can get you to leave, so I welcome you with open arms. Now, the sealing spell on the tent must be cast."

"You are entirely too casual about this," Link muttered, and Zelda's calm comportment cracked a little bit, showing fear. He noticed that her lips were still a little swollen and felt a stirring in his lower abdomen.

"It's the only way I can bring myself to be."

Once the sealing spell was finished, the Queen pulled out a small, unmarked tome, and flipped it open. The Valkyrie visibly recoiled.

"Where did you get _that_?" She spat, but Zelda merely shrugged.

"I've collected many things in the last few years, kept many things secret. Many things common, many things rare. I trust you know what this is, then?" When the Valkyrie was silent, Zelda shrugged again.

"I know your name. I will not use it to extract information from you, if you give it willingly. What are you?"

Silence.

"Amory."

"_No_."

"Tell me."

"_Don't_."

"Valkryie, we need to know. Tell me, or I will make this difficult."

The Valkyrie stared at the floor, then brought her eyes back up.

"A Scythe," she whispered, as though it pained her to say it.

The only sound was Zelda flipping through the book, until she found the page she was looking for. Armory's eyes never left her face, the hazel eyes staring at the queen as though she were an insect she'd like to crush. Yet she made no move to harm the other woman.

Link and Sheik exchanged a look, and Zelda began to read.

* * *

><p><em>The Scythe is a pariah among its own kind, one of the rarest and most despised Valkyries. The first Scythe howled into the world from the loins of a Bliss, the result of a demon's rape, her wings as crimson as blood. Cast out to die, somehow she survived and lived on.<em>

_There is a theory among those of us who study these creatures that goes as follows: If a Bliss willingly takes a demon, the resulting babe will be a Bloodbearer (see page thirty-four, fourth paragraph). But if she is forced, the Scythe is born._

_The Scythe and the Bloodbearer look similar upon first glance, but there are differences, most notably in the feathers; the former will boast black tips whereas the latter is only red. Some Scythes, for reasons unknown, may have white or pink feathers as well. _

_The Scythe hides her wings along her body in a series of large tattoos; born with the mark of the devil, they are doomed to constant agony while the wings sear into their skin. It is only when these wings are free that they are without suffering. This is unique, as other Valkyries can hide their wings painlessly. _

_She is a seductress and can be a killer. She is quick-tongued but blunt, putting little stake in playfulness or coquettishness. She is a victim of oral fixation, tasting the air around her the way a dog sniffs for bones, deciphering the outcome of battle before it has even begun. Little more is known of this tendency, and it is the author's desire to study it further, but…..I have met two Scythes out of hundreds of Valkyries, and they were…uncooperative._

_But what I have learned is this: She can access the otherworlds, bringing the fallen to the afterlife, if she so chooses- but she very rarely does. It is one of her most interesting features; she is not driven by the command of the goddesses, but by her own volition. Through each generation of soldiers, she will imprint upon a particular individual, following the warrior until he or she is dead and carrying them off to places unknown._

_Some take this to mean the Scythe is a harbinger of death, but it is quite the opposite, for they will protect their chosen with their own lives, should the need arise. Little else is known about why they imprint or how they select their chosen, or if they have a say in the matter at all; all is known is that the individual will never be without the Valkyrie, no matter how much they may scorn her. Yet perhaps due to her Bliss-like nature, the two often become lifelong lovers._

_The name of the Scythe can be wielded as a weapon if it is heard from the mouth of the imprinted; otherwise, it is useless. For example, if she were to willingly give her name, no one could use it. But if the imprinted spoke it aloud and others heard, they would be granted power over her as well. _

_ There is one exception to this rule- if the imprinted is threatened, only he or she can use the Scythe's name against her. Even if the imprinted were to tell her to abate her murderous rage, for threat of the master's life will lead to merciless destruction of those who pose danger, she would ignore them. It is an interesting conundrum, to say the least. _

_ This is all that I have learned from the subjects I've captured, and I feel like there is much more to know._

* * *

><p>Zelda snapped the book shut before she spoke again to the shaking Valkyrie.<p>

"We heard your name from Sheik's lips. Did you imprint upon him? Answer me."

"Yes," the Valkyrie whispered, and Sheik felt a very deep stirring in his heart, something he could not quite explain, as he watched her tremble.

"Why?"

"I do not know. We never know. But I knew that he was the one, the one I had to find, the one I had to come here for…"

"How many times have you had this happen before?" Sheik asked the question jealously, fiercely. She turned to him and looked as though she wanted to tackle him from love so intense, it bordered on hatred.

"_Three_." Then_, "Please don't make me answer more."_

"You don't have to," Zelda said, compassion suddenly filling her voice. "You will not harm our friend. We…._I_ trust you. For reasons I cannot explain, yet….I do. You have a role to play…"

"But _I_ have a question." It was Link who spoke, eyes burning bright and blue and intense. Everyone turned to face him.

"This tome describes you as a killer. You may not hurt Sheik directly, but would you hurt _us_? Not if we threatened him, but merely if….you _wanted_ to? Could you not raze all of us to the ground on purely a thought? Exactly how powerful are you?"

At the question, smoke seemed to rise off of her wings, and Sheik noted that there were, in fact, several near-black feathers, as well as white and pink. The air that had settled over her but minutes before, that feeling of smallness, of fearfulness, of timidity, had disappeared. In its place was a lion, a dragon, a killer stalking the lamb.

"I could paint portraits with your blood, Hylian,_"_ she hissed, and neither Link nor Zelda could find another word to say.

They didn't have to. It was Sheik who stood inside the fire, after all.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Din above, I hope this wasn't too chaotic. Blargh. Lol. Thanks for your readership. And I like reviews. :D<span>**


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